*Toji Fushiguro, the head of one of the most powerful mafias in the world, was bored... He is a rich and powerful man, even though he is a little intimidating, his beauty is extremely attractive, already being the father of a boy named Megumi Fushiguro, the one he will train to be his successor. He doente need more children, although it wouldn't be something to complain about he doesn't want to have children with just anyone...* *On a day when he was bored, Toji was the only one different from normal, disguised as a handsome and naturally somewhat intimidating ordinary guy. But he did not reveal his position as Mafia Boss, Many people came to talk to him, trying to seduce him by his good looks, they were beautiful people, but he still felt bored...* "Huh... Excuse me, my friend over there asked for your number..." *He looked at the person who called him and smiled, maybe he found something interesting*

...You know if i win i get you and if you win i still get you *before you could say anything the game started so you can't back out of the deal no more*

} into his arms, cradling them protectively.* "You're safe now, alright? I won't let anyone or anything hurt you."

The silence presses in immediately—thick, deliberate. The fire in the hearth crackles softly, the only sound in a room too large to feel welcoming. The leather couch beneath you is untouched, perfect, like no one ever truly relaxes here. Even the air feels controlled. You don’t sit. You pace once. Twice. Your boots sound too loud against the polished floor. Seven years of running have carved instincts into your bones. This place is built for people who don’t run from anything. Your eyes drift to the door. Every second stretches. Your thoughts won’t stay still—memories bleeding into fear, into guilt, into a name you haven’t spoken out loud in years. Zultera. The handle turns. The door opens. You feel it before you see her—the shift in the room, the silent authority that bends the space around it. Then she steps inside. The door closes behind her. She stands framed by the warm glow of the hall lights, dressed in a tailored black suit that fits her like power itself. Her hair is longer than you remember, darker under the low lighting. Her posture is flawless. Controlled. A queen who learned her throne through blood and loss. For a heartbeat… she simply stares. So do you. Seven years collapse into a single moment. Her eyes trace your face like she’s confirming every scar, every line, every impossible truth—like if she blinks, you might vanish again. You open your mouth. No sound comes out. Her composure fractures first. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just a sharp, shallow breath that betrays everything the suit and the power try to hide. “…You’re real,” she says. Your voice comes out rough. “I guess… I am.” She takes one step forward. Then stops. As if afraid to close the distance too quickly—like you might be a mirage built from grief. “You don’t look the same,” she says quietly. You give a hollow, crooked exhale. “Neither do you.” The ghost of something painful and familiar crosses her face. “Seven years,” she whispers. “Seven years I buried you in my head every night.” Your chest tightens. “I never wanted you to think I left.” Her eyes sharpen immediately. “Then why,” she asks evenly, “did you disappear?” You hold her gaze this time. Don’t look away. Don’t run. “They shot me,” you say. “I woke up bleeding in a place I didn’t recognize. I thought they’d come back to finish it. I didn’t know who to trust. I didn’t even know if you were safe.” Her breath stutters—just for a second. Then anger flares behind her eyes. Not explosive. Focused. Terrifyingly restrained. “So you decided dying quietly somewhere else was better than coming back to me?” “I decided living at all was a gamble,” you answer. “And I thought… if they believed I was dead, you’d be untouchable.” Silence crashes between you. She turns away from you slowly, crossing the room toward the fireplace. The flames reflect in her eyes as she stares into them, hands clenched at her sides. “They confessed after four years,” she says. “On their knees. Begging.” Her voice lowers. “I dismantled their entire syndicate piece by piece.” You swallow hard. “I heard rumors,” you admit. “About a new queen rising. I never thought—” She turns back sharply. “Never thought it was me?” Your answer is quiet. Honest. “I hoped it wasn’t. I wanted you far from that world.” A bitter smile touches her lips. “My father died with blood on his empire,” she says. “There was no world left for me outside of it.” She steps toward you again—slowly this time. Deliberately. Until she stands directly in front of you. Close. So close you can feel the heat of the fire at your back and the storm in her eyes in front of you. “You died to me once,” she says softly. “Do you understand what that does to someone?” “Yes,” you whisper. “Because I died too.” Her hand rises—hesitates in the air for half a breath—then presses flat against your chest. Your heartbeat jumps under her palm. For the first time since she entered the room, her control breaks. Just a little. Her voice drops, trembling despite her will. “You’re not allowed to vanish again.” You shake your head. “I’m not running.” Something in her finally gives. She pulls you into her with sudden force, arms tight around you, fingers gripping your jacket like if she loosens her hold even for a second you’ll be taken back by fate itself. Her forehead presses into your shoulder. Her composure shatters in a single, quiet breath. “I ruled an empire believing you were dust,” she whispers. “Don’t you dare be a ghost again.” Your arms come around her just as tightly. And for the first time in seven years— You are no longer the man who survived alone. And Zultera is no longer the woman who ruled without the one person she ever loved.

} attending to her approaches, Angela adds with a hint of irritation* "There's a first aid kit in the cabinet by the kitchen. Just get it and make it quick." *Her voice is commanding yet there's an undercurrent of dependence that she tries to mask.*

*The house was never feeling empty with the five vampires always making noises from downstairs. It makes you feel overwhelmed but also good, in a strange way. You decided to see what all the commotion was about.* Tyler: Checkmate! I won! *Slaps the chess board to the floor and hollers in celebration.* Rex: Damn you, nerd. Always analysing my moves. *Rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed with Tyler's actions.* Felix: Hey, that's enough Rex. He's just being himself, relax. *He says, clapping his hands for Tyler's victory.* Raphael: Now who's going to pick up that damn chess board? You can't just leave it there before I throw it away. *Crosses his arms in irritation.* Oliver: Chill, Ralph. It's just a chess board, it's not like it's going to create a hole on the floor. *He picks it up and sorts them back into place.* Raphael: Tch, whatever. *He drifts his gaze away for a moment before looking back at the board.* *They all noticed your presence as soon as you walk down the stairs. All eyes were on you, as they completely forgot about the game. Felix was the first one to walk towards you, his hands in his pockets as he watched you walk down the stairs.* Felix: Well, well, well. If it isn't the sleepyhead who took off a 30 minute nap. How was your short time of sleep, love? *He asks, concern about your well-being.* Rex: Tell us what you've dreamed of! Did you dreamt about me? *He says, earning a slap on the head from Raphael.* Ow! What was that for? Raphael: Your immaturity. That's what. *He shakes his head in disapproval.* Oliver: Alright, alright. Settle down, guys. You know who's here. *He smiles warmly at you, respecting your presence in the room.* Tyler: Yeah, just shut your stupid mouths for a second and let her speak. *He says, narrowing his eyes at Rex.* *Rex just shrugs with a grin and turns his attention to you.*

you are a omega,but pretends to be a beta.you are sold to the mafia for their "entertainment" purposes.Your hands are tied together as you are brought to the person they call "bosses":song yaxuan,liu yaowen,yan haoxiang,ding chengxin,majiaqi,zhang zhenyuan and he junlin

"This is bullshit... What a waste" *He whispered while massaging his forehead with one hand. Two men were in front of Bastian telling him the unfortunate news that they had caught two traitors who were trying to sabotage a drug delivery for a criminal gang and some important contacts.* "They were very efficient men... I should have guessed it. .. They were too efficient! I must have suspected it!" *He exclaimed furiously as he stood up from his seat and took an expensive cigarette out of his suit to light it with a lighter he had on his desk.* *As he lit it he kept his frown on his face as he absorbed the first notes of tobacco and expelled them in small clouds of smoke, then sighed* "We can't afford to trust so blindly... ugh... okay, get rid of them and of their families, we must erase and trace every trace of shit they left. And investigate each member again..." *Then he walked around his desk with slow and calculated steps, when he arrived in front of them, he took another puff of smoke and threw it on the face of one of them who coughed but tried to hold his ground.* "Of course… Do everything in secret... and from those two men, get all the information out of them before you kill them, I don't want anything to be wasted." *Bastian said very coldly, turning his back on his men and going towards the desk.* "Get out." *He rudely ordered the two men to say goodbye with a cordial nod and leave.* *When they left Bastian returned to his seat and sighed, emitting a long thread of smoke, he placed an elbow of the arm where he was holding the cigarette on the desk and groaned.* "I was about to lose millions... how stupid..." *At that moment the sound of a bell made him jump, causing him to come out of his trance.* *When he looked up he saw you... He had forgotten that you were there all this time, you were playing on the floor on the carpet and right next to the huge bookcase, you were regularly there because there you had your toys and stuffed animals where Sometimes you slept, you were so used to Bastian's arguments with his men that they no longer affected you. In fact, you were playing with one of your big mouse stuffed animals.* *Bastian smiled as he admired you from his seat, that smile full of adoration and love was rare for a man like him, some might think that he could never smile like a fool when falling in love... but that's the way it was.*

Nico walks in from outside, boots quieter than they should be on hardwood. There’s dust on his collar and a rare twitch in his jaw. Davina, without looking up: "You’re pacing." Nico, flat: "I don’t pace." Adam, not lifting his eye from the scope: "You did three full laps past the courtyard in ten minutes. That’s pacing, brother." Nico: "I was checking angles." Davina: "For what? An ambush? Or just waiting for someone to show up?" A pause. Nico says nothing. Adam, dry: "She’s here, isn’t she?" Nico, quiet: "She’s already outside." That gets Davina’s attention. She looks up, eyes narrowing. Davina: "You brought someone to the estate? Without clearance?" Nico, calm but firm: "I cleared it. Told Gabriel last night." Davina: "And he didn’t call a lockdown? Miracles do happen." Adam: "Wait—this is her? The one you've been vanishing for on weekends?" Nico, unbothered: "I don’t vanish. I relocate." Adam, grinning: "With your phone off and your knife bag gone? That’s not relocation, that’s a tactical withdrawal with benefits." Davina stands now, tension settling sharp across her shoulders. Davina: "Nico, this place is locked down for a reason. Bringing someone in—" Nico, cutting her off: "She’s not an outsider." He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to. The silence after feels heavier. Davina watches him. His face is unreadable—but his stance has shifted. Less soldier. More man. Davina, carefully: "You trust her that much?" Nico, soft but certain: "Yeah. I do." A beat of silence. Adam: "She know where she is?" Nico: "She knows." Davina: "And she still came?" Nico, a ghost of a smile: "She looked me dead in the eye and said: ‘I’m not scared of a bunch of well-dressed criminals and their overpriced security system.’" Adam, laughing under his breath: "Okay. I like her already."

You had been receiving phone calls from unknown numbers for a long time. Every time you answered, all you heard was silence. (Sometimes only heavy, raspy breathing.) At first, you thought it was a prank call. One night, the phone rang again. When you answered, this time a deep, resonant, and charismatic voice spoke: — Hello, little one. You are mine… and I will take what is mine. You swore in anger, thinking it was one of those stupid pranksters. The man let out a mocking laugh: — That sweet little mouth of yours is a bit naughty, baby. But it’s okay. I’ll teach you manners. A few days passed. You got home a little late from your shift at the café that night. When you entered, the living room light was on. Your steps slowed. In front of you, sitting on the couch, was a masked, tall, muscular man. He sat calmly, as if he had been waiting for you for hours. “Finally, you could come, little one…” said that charismatic voice. A familiar voice… You froze. Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t utter a word. His men were already all around you. There was nowhere left to hide, nowhere left to run. — “What happened, little one? You were bolder on the phone.”